Chapter 13 - Ambush in the Dark
From every alley, doorway, and second-story balcony, armed mercenaries poured into the narrow street, their swords and pikes gleaming menacingly in the moonlight. They wore the snake-crested armbands of the old regime—loyalists who had escaped the purge in the capital and gone underground.
"Form a circle!" General Marcus shouted, drawing his broadsword with a lightning-fast motion as he shoved Clara behind him. The four northern guards instantly formed an impenetrable defensive wall around the queen.
"Take the girl alive!" a scarred mercenary captain yelled, pointing his blade directly at Clara. "The eastern lords will pay a king's ransom for the false queen's head!"
Clara’s heart pounded, but her mind remained ice-cold. She remembered the scullery, the whip, the darkness of the throne room when the crown first awakened. She was no longer a helpless maid hiding in the shadows.
As the first wave of mercenaries lunged forward, Marcus and his guards met them with disciplined fury, steel clashing against steel in a shower of brilliant sparks. But the sheer number of attackers began to overwhelm them. One mercenary slipped past the guard line, lunging straight toward Clara with a dagger raised high.
Instead of panicking, Clara ducked under the wild swing, using her momentum to drive her elbow hard into the man’s ribs. As he gasped for air, she swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing heavily onto the cobblestones.
Before she could catch her breath, another attacker lunged from the side.
Flash!
Suddenly, a brilliant, warm golden light erupted from Clara’s hands—not as blinding as the crown in the throne room, but a fierce, pulsing radiance that illuminated the entire courtyard. The mercenaries shrieked, shielding their eyes against the supernatural brilliance, stumbling backward in sheer terror.
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"It’s her!" a mercenary screamed, dropping his weapon and falling to his knees. "The magic of the crown... it's real!"
General Marcus capitalized on their confusion, sweeping his blade in a wide arc and disarming the remaining attackers within seconds. The courtyard fell silent, save for the heavy breathing of the guards and the terrified groans of the defeated rebels lying in the mud.
